Special
by kytus
Summary: DMHG. COMPLETE. A story about friendship, jealousy and looking at things a little more closely.
1. Part I

**IMPORTANT AN -**

This fic can be considered as the **rewrite **of my first ever fic **A Malfoy Always Gets What He Wants**.Well, I'm considering it that way, because that was what I was thinking of when I wrote it, but it seems to have evolved! And I think you will agree my writing style has changed dramatically!!!

_Special_ has the same basic plot, but as you will see from the opening paragraph there are a lot of changes and even a sub-plot. It's essentially Draco/Hermione with mentions of Dean/Lavender, Dean/Ginny, Lavender/Ron and Harry/Ginny.

The fic will be split into two or three part, depending on if the fic loses control of itself!

That's all for the moment people, enjoy the fic and leave me your views.

Oh, and thanks to my mate Jenny for doing a quick betaing job, so if there are any mistakes she's the one to blame. Only joking she did very well.

Kylie x

* * *

**Special**

**Part I**

It was sweltering, which was quite understandable for mid-June weather. But when you're standing in a crowd full of energetic Gryffindor's who are jumping up and down and chanting (which sounded more like screaming, because you couldn't understand a word they where saying), waving around banners and scarves, blowing whistles that made sounds other than the whistle you would expect, leaping in and out of their seats which was more like a half-arsed attempted at a Mexican Wave, (not that anyone would have known of course, it was all done so randomly); it was all bound to start eating away at your equilibrium.

Hermione gritted her teeth and glared at nothing. She had had enough being hit on the back of the head with Dean's prized West Ham rattle. Once was an accident, twice could be forgiven, three times could be considered punishment.

It wasn't her fault Luna had decided to sit in the Gryffindor stands for the final Quidditch match of the year. So, because of the new seating arrangements Lavender was unable to be seated by her boyfriend, the owner of said rattle.

Lavender had specifically asked her to save her a seat next to Dean, which was beyond Hermione's comprehension. Wouldn't it have been easier to have asked Dean himself? It would have saved Hermione a lot of trouble by not having to follow the unimaginably tall boy around. She could have asked him on Lavender's behalf to save the seat, Dean wouldn't have minded the strange request because he was the sort of person that never let little thing's like that bother him. Unlike Hermione. But she couldn't.

Now you're probably thinking; why would it be so strange that Lavender had asked Hermione to save the seat for her?

That question is relatively simple to answer. Obviously Lavender, being the unpunctual girl that she was, was going to be running late for the match, having just gotten out of the shower as Hermione was leaving the dorm room to make her way down to the Quidditch pitch. And Lavender, being the vain and boy obsessed girl that she was, was going to need another hour to pick out her most revealing clothes that she owned and slut- cough, prettify herself. She didn't actually say that, Hermione just interpreted it that way.

So Lavender asked Hermione to save her a seat and stressed that it had to be next to her _boyfriend,_ Dean Thomas. And Hermione, being the girl who likes to help those in need (even if they don't deserve her kindness) agreed. It was also partly because she had to live with the selfish girl.

Next you would be asking; why would it be strange for Hermione to ask Dean, after being asked by Lavender, to save the seat? This also would also be simple to answer, and complicated at the same time.

You see Lavender and Dean aren't actually 'together'. So of course Dean would find it strange. Secondly, since Dean's break up with Ginny the previous year, girls have been swarming to be the shoulder for Dean's tears or the distraction of his moroseness. If the prettiest girl in school found something of worth in him who wouldn't? But it was before all this that Lavender had discovered the potential Mr. Thomas had as a boyfriend. It was just too bad Ginny Weasley had found this out first. Lavender would not be beaten though, if she saw someone eyeing up _her _man she was going to do something about it, more specifically - extract revenge.

Over night Lavender had stewed and stewed in her jealousy until a plan had formed.

And Ron Weasley was the key.

She had used all her feminine wiles to catch the eye of the bumbling red head, which hadn't paid off at all until she had been bumped into and dropped her bag one day and bent over to pick it up - all done in the line of Ron's sight. And it was all done unconsciously. If it hadn't been for Draco Malfoy it never would have worked, because he was the one who had knock the bag off her shoulder in the first place.

So, now with Ron permanently attached to her side, and lips, all she needed was a little bit of manipulation and persuasion to get him to split up Dean and his sister. In the end it came to nought until Harry had decided he liked the girl after all and she still had feelings for him, and because Ron was no longer needed Lavender had left him.

Lavender was a bitch, I think you would all agree.

Hermione didn't know about the plan involving Ron, - obviously if she did she would be taking part in the little errand she had been asked of - but she did know that Lavender was psycho and would do anything in her power to get what she wanted, and for the past year she had wanted Dean. She may have dated other guys in that time but that didn't stop her from achieving her ultimate goal.

However that goal was getting farther and farther away as the school year was ending in just over a month and they would all be let out into the big wide world without the security of Hogwarts to protect them.

Anyways, we, or should I say I? seem to have gone way off the initial subject.

So, after being asked to reserve the seat, Hermione made her way through the castle (stopping in at the Great Hall to quickly grab a slice of toast, an apple and filled a small flask up with milk), past the green houses and along the edge of a small cluster of trees, she made it to the main gates of the stadium, as she munched on her toast, where already a group of avid Quidditch fans were making their way inside.

Dean was apart of them.

He found Quidditch just as fascinating as football, however, in Dean's opinion nothing could top the muggle sport and in Hermione's, it was a way of letting out all that testosterone that builds up in pubescent boy, and the fact that it was just not her cup of Horlicks. She always had the feeling she should have a cup before a match, as it would help her to sleep through the screaming and shouting and general excitement.

Hermione watched as the lanky, black boy walked through the enormous entry gate, then turn left and duck under the much smaller archway that lead under the Gryffindor stands, with his best friend Seamus Finnigan by his side.

She should have been following, nevertheless, she just had one more thing to do before she did Lavender's bidding.

Walking past the main gate, she wound her way around the pitch until she came to an average looking side-door and inconspicuously slipped inside.

The small room she had entered was just a few shades lighter than dark. She waited a moment for her eyes to adjust due to stepping in to a dim room after having the bright sun contract her irises. With her sight back to its normality she carefully wandered further inside.

The room itself was a store room, used both for old and out-of-date Quidditch paraphernalia such as brooms, ball boxes, uniforms, posters, flags and for equipment to maintain the stadium itself like gravel, compost, a lawn mower, grass seeds, planks of wood, nails, hammers etc… The place looked like it hadn't been used in years and the items inside even longer. Everything was either rusty and/or covered in dust.

Hermione heaved a large dry cough and sneezed as dust particles floated in the air around her from the disruption of the dusty blanket at her feet. She grabbed hold of the nearest thing to her, a broom, she sneezed again, and all the other brooms next to it fell with consecutive clanks like a row of dominos. Then she stubbed her toe as she righted herself. Overall, not a greta situation to be in.

Making it to the opposite end of the room without further disasters, she came upon another door that lead to a corridor. She walked down the right hand side until she came to yet another door. She opened it, stepped through, closed it behind her and leaned against it with a breathed a sigh of relief, happy to be in cleaner air. Well cleaner than the musk of stale dust.

"Took you long enough. I sent that owl over half an hour ago."

She rolled her eyes and replied, "_Almost_ half an hour ago, _almost_."

"It doesn't really matter, you're here now. So did you bring the stuff?"

She looked up at the person she was talking to and saw them leaning against a tiled wall, arms crossed with the their hands tucked snugly under their armpits. It was a typical boy pose.

She stared.

For quite a while it, would seem, as they had to repeat their question to her.

Hermione shook herself out of her stupor and snapped, "Of course I did otherwise I wouldn't be here." She handed over a small bag. "And don't say it like that, you make me sound like a drug dealer."

"I think someone woke up on the wrong side of the bed this morning."

"And I think someone should get their own breakfast in the morning instead of sending me last minute notice to get it for them, _and_ making me sneak through dirty old store rooms to meet with them."

The boy smirked, "I never _made_ you do anything. You could have turned my request down."

"Request?" she spluttered. "That was no request."

After taking a bite out of his delivered apple, via Hermione, and chewing and swallowing it, he replied with a confused look. "Why? What was wrong with it?"

"Oh I'll tell you what was wrong with it." Hermione stuck her hand in her shirt pocket and pulled out a piece of paper.

"You kept it? I'm touched, really."

"Shut up you. Now listen." She cleared her throat then read from the note, "'Meet me in the abandoned Quidditch showers. And bring me my breakfast woman, a man needs feeding before he goes out flying. Much obliged, DM.'" She refolded the paper and stuffed it back in her pocket. "If I didn't know you were such a git Malfoy, I would be mortally offended."

He smirked the smirk. "So instead you're just offended."

"Too right I am," she said .

"I don't see why," Draco took a swill of milk from the flask then continued, "there's a thank you in there somewhere."

"'Much obliged,' indeed. Only you could not only say it, but _write it _in such a patronising way."

"It may _sound_ patronising Granger, but you know deep down inside that when I say it to _you_ I actually mean it." He flashed a grin, "That's why you came."

Hermione rolled her eyes and crossed her arms. He says something nice, then just has to go and stick that all-knowing comment on the end and ruin a good thing. She hated that he knew her so well.

"Oh, don't go all huffy on me now."

"I am not, I've just got places to go, you know. People to stalk."

He raised a pale brow. "Stalk?"

"It doesn't matter," she waved him off and turned towards the door.

"But there's still twenty minutes until the match starts."

She glanced over her shoulder at him. "Like I said Malfoy-"

"Yes, yes. Places and stalking. But wouldn't you rather stay here with me?"

She smiled, said, "What? In this grotty old room? I think not," and walked through the door.

"You know you can _stalk_ _me_ anytime, Granger," shouted Draco.

"I'll keep that in mind," she called back. "When you're not spending your time in dirty showers."

Winding her way back through the corridor and store room she made it out into the blinding sunlight. She squinted, waited for her sight to come back, then entered the main gate of the stadium and followed the path Dean had taken earlier under the wooden archway. The match was to start in under half an hour, so the stands were much more crowed now and Hermione knew her chances of finding Dean with an unoccupied seat next to him were diminishing rapidly.

Hermione trudged up the maze of staircases, following and being followed by groups of Gryffindors. They were all chatting amicably, giving their views on the upcoming Quidditch match; who will win, opinions of the players, stats… The kinds of things Hermione had no interest in, even so, because she didn't care for what they were saying it just sounded like noise. She wondered vaguely if anyone who liked this devil of a sport could actually talk at a volume that didn't burst your ear drums. To her they weren't even having conversations with each other, they were just making noise.

She came to the top and saw the thick afro of Dean's head and made a beeline for him. It always made her feel slightly nauseous when standing in the highest stand, not only did your ears pop but she was afraid of heights. She was thankful he had chosen a seat in the centre of the box instead of the customary front row seat he would usually take.

When she came level with his row her heart dropped. Luna was already there and there was no hope on the other side because Seamus was on his right.

Well beggars can't be choosers.

She took the seat next to Luna and waited for the players to take to the skies.

Lavender had arrived ten minutes in, Hermione had no idea of the score, only the way she knew who was winning was by watching the people reactions around her, and by the way they were going wild she would say Gryffindor were winning. She had glared at her, pushed past a number of fans, took the only available seat - behind Luna - tapped Dean's shoulder, she smiled sweetly and spoke to him, he gave her his rattle and thus began the abuse and brings us back to a pissed off Hermione.

CLICK-CLICK-CLICK-THWACK-CLICK-CLICK.

That's it. She was leaving.

She rose from the bench and turned to give Lavender her most evilest of eyes.

Abruptly the stand shook from the stomping of feet and Hermione's head split from the hissing and boos and the occasional shout of "FOUL!"

Slytherin had scored.

Hermione as quickly as possible escaped the new form of hell on earth, or old, depending on how you looked at it.

* * *

To be continued... 


	2. Part II

**AN**

Part two is here and is once again betaed by my friend Jenny. In this we get to see a lot more of Draco and a small glimpse of of his fan-girls.

Enjoy everyone, and leave us a review.

Kylie x

* * *

**Special**

**Part II**

Draco was on an all time high. Even after the end of the game, the adrenalin was still pumping through his veins and his fingers kept unconsciously tightening around the little golden ball held protectively in his hand, making sure the last two hours had really happened. It had. He had caught the snitch. More importantly taking the Quidditch Cup along with him. That was clutched in his other hand. Draco didn't care for the stupid trophy though; all that mattered was that he had won his first and last ever game against Gryffindor.

He remembered looking determinedly for the little winged bugger when a call from one of his team-mates had alerted him to a bludger coming his way. He had turned to see in which direction and had swerved his body just in time to his left as the aggressive ball flew over his shoulder. Draco lost his balance and made an arc of flying green robes until he was upside down and tensing all the muscling in his tights, holding on to his broom for dear life. His robes, unfortunately, were dangling around him and the more he struggled the more he became tangled in them.

Vaisey, one of the Slytherin chasers and team captain, came over and shouted to him, "Get back on your broom Draco, it's no time to be hanging around; we have a game to play!"

He cursed. What an undignified way to be seen by the _entire school! _Moreover, what a _great_ team he was apart of. Not that he expected any help, it was the principal. Hadn't they ever heard of teamwork?

Draco stilled and took a deep breath and gritted his teeth from the sheer force of keeping a hold of his broom with just his legs. It was eerily silent in his cocoon of robes except for the blur of the crowd noise outside. Then he heard ever so faintly the hectic fluttering of wings, metallic wings.

The snitch was trapped inside with him!

Carefully he searched through the folds of his robes, actually praying he didn't find an opening that would set either the snitch or himself free. The blood rushing downwards to his head was starting to give him a headache and he was getting impatient to find his goal until-

There! He saw it. Tiny gold sparks were illuminating the pocket of his robes. Slowly he inched his hand inside being careful not to scare it more than it already was. That is if snitches could get scared.

A gust of wind, either from a player flying past or another close shave with a bludger, caused him and his broom to sway. Impatiently Draco forced his hand further inside the pocket and grabbed hold of the bugger, bit onto it, pulled his arms out of his robe and watched as it fell to the ground.

"THE SLYTHERIN SEEKER NOW SEEMS TO BE FREE AND IS PULLING HIMSELF BACK ONTO HIS BROOM! WHAT AN IDIOT FOR GETTING HIMSELF INTO SUCH A-" Professor McGonagall cut of Zacharias Smith with a tweak to the ear.

Draco grab hold of the shaft of his Nimbus 2001 and swung himself upright. He took the snitch out of his mouth and rubbed his forehead with the back of his hand as a wave of dizziness threatened to take hold of him.

"BUT IS THAT? IS THAT THE- NO IT CANNOT BE! PROFESSOR TELL ME, AM I SEEING THINGS? HAS DRACO MALFOY CAUGHT THE SNITCH? YES, HE HAS! DRACO MALFOY HAS CAUGHT THE SNITCH. SLYTHERIN WIN! HOW THE BLOODY HE-"

Draco winced as the ear slipping noise of the crowed sliced right through his head. There were roars, cheers, boos, heckling; all mishmash-ed together to make one big knife of sound. Moreover, if that wasn't bad enough, Draco was tackled into one big team hug that nearly knocked him off his broom again. They mused up his hair and thumped him on the back.

_What the fuck! _He thought.

"Gryffindor stinks! Slytherin rules!" chanted his team-mates. "Gryffindor stinks! Slytherin rules!"

Realisation dawned.

_Oh shit, yeah. He had caught the snitch. He had won the game. Ha! Take that Potter!_

His headache was promptly shoved aside as the euphoria of victory took over. He threw his hand up in the air, showing the crowed the snitch and shouted, "COME ON!"

And still, as he was redressing after his shower, he couldn't wipe the grin from his face. He would have to thank the beater who had hit that bludger at him. The sheer luck of having the snitch confined with him could only be called a miracle.

Draco laced up his boots and was again clapped on the back.

"Well done mate. It took you six years but you got there in the end."

It was Theo, he wasn't on the team but liked to get all the gossip, e.g. new formations, manoeuvres and strategies.

Draco laughed. "Yeah it all seems worth losing to him all those years just to see that look on his face once he realised I had it."

"Picture perfect."

Draco stood to check his appearance in the mirror. "I doubt it. Potter couldn't take a decent picture even if he removed the scar." He turned to face his friend. "How do I look?"

Theo looked at him inquisitively, "Do I really have to answer that?"

"Nah," he smirked and turned back to the mirror to tuck in his shirt.

"But I must say you're making an effort to look impeccable, more than usual anyway. Who's the lucky lady?"

"There's no lucky lady," Draco replied.

Theo rolled his eyes and leaned back against the lockers lining the changing rooms. "Come off it Draco. The game ended forty minutes ago. It usually only takes you twenty to get ready."

"You time me?"

"Only the one time. There was a betting pool."

Typical Slytherin trait; always out to make money. However, Draco wasn't mad about it; he had been the centre of more embarrassing bets.

He raised his eyebrow in reply. "Who won?"

Theo chuckled. "I would have thought that was easy. Pansy did, 85 galleons." Draco whistled. "She knows your routine off by heart; even knows the combination of your dressing ritual."

"That girl needs a new fucking hobby and perhaps a brain," said Draco as he threw his dirty Quidditch uniform in the laundry basket.

"She's not the only one. What type of person puts his socks on first before anything else?"

Draco glared at the knowing look he was being given, and threw his arm guards and shin pads in his open locker and locked it shut.

"Well I'm glad Pansy got something out of me because that's all she's going to get," he said picking up toiletry bag and heading for the door.

Theo rushed to follow him. "Hey Draco, I wouldn-"

CLICK-FLASH-CLICK-FLASH-"DRACO"-CLICK-FLASH-BANG.

Draco stood there, leaning against the door and breathing heavily.

"-do that if I were you," Theo finished lamely.

He pushed his hair back and spelled the door locked. "Has the whole female population of Hogwarts gone mental?" he asked.

"I don't think so. Pothead usually gets this kind of attention after the finals. Quidditch fever, you know? Happens to all of 'em at this time of year. Sally-Anne once told me they go wacko because of the uniforms, it's just an added bonus if you've got a trophy under your belt too."

Draco raised an eyebrow in reply.

"I know what you're thinking, I didn't know which way to take it either, but because we're talking about Sally-Anne here I don't think she meant it in _that_ way. I'm pretty envious of her though, she gets to see her own eye candy undress in the shower and not get a slap for it."

Draco's eyebrow rose higher. "How do you know all this?"

"She told me all about it herself, and apparently she's getting more action than we do too. All she would have to do is start up 'the boob size topic' and even gets to," Theo made an action that suggested he had breasts himself, "cop a feel. Can you believe it? Lesbian action and we're not invited." He lowered his voice, "She even said she has seen Ginny Weasley's tits," he whistled. "What a glorious sight I would have paid to see." He closed his eyes to see his dream for few moments and Draco left him to it. "But you want to know Sally-Anne's favourite pair?" Theo asked eagerly.

It seemed to Draco, not that he hadn't always known, that his friend had an unnatural fascination with the upper half of a girl's body; and the only way he was getting his information on the complicated female species was through a - just as obsessed - lesbian.

There was something rather perverted about that.

"Not really."

"Oh I think you'll want to."

"Well put me out of my suspension."

"Patil, the Ravenclaw not the Gryff. Weird, huh, that one twin looks better naked than the other."

Draco stared blankly at him.

Theo shrugged. "She's got the best tits in the school, by Sally-Anne's reckoning."

Draco would have to disagree, not aloud though. "I think you need to buy yourself a dirty magazine or have a wank, or, even better, both."

"Come off it. You have a hoard of girls out there vying for your attention; of course you're going to pick the one with the better breasts."

"You're really shallow, do you know that?"

"I'm shallow? Look at you, Mr. I've-Got-A-Date-And-Not-Going-To-Tell. You look like you're about to go to the Ritz."

He looked down at his clothes. His blue shirt and black trousers weren't _that_ fancy.

"I can even see my face in your shoes. And what's that smell? Are you wearing cologne? Tell us Draco, who is she? Is she jumping up and down outside and screaming your name? On the other hand, are you going to meet her in some secluded nook in the castle? Are you meeting Patil, the Ravenclaw not the Gryff?"

He stuck a thumb out and pointed it at the bulging door. "You think I'm taking out one of those idiots out there? You seriously need to think again."

Theo crossed his arms and pouted.

"Don't give me that Theo; I have standards and taste," he looked at his watch, "and ten minutes to get out of here."

His face lit up, "You do have a date!" He grinned then laughed, "And good luck with escaping." He walked to the door and Draco moved out of the way.

"Are you insane? They'll swamp you."

"Au contraire. Remember they don't want me, mate. They want _you_, and they're going to eat you alive!" Theo pulled out his wand.

"Woah, woah, woah." Draco grabbed hold of Theo's wrist before any spell could be uttered. "I need help; the only other way out of here is through the tunnel to the pitch…"

Theo's mouth widened, "And they're out there too."

"You can't leave me here!" he said scared out of his wits. He didn't like the idea of being trapped here.

"Why not? I don't owe you anything," he tapped his finger to his chin. "At least I don't think I do."

"Then I'll have to owe you. What do you want?"

Theo grinned, "A good look at Patil's boobs, the Ravenclaw not t-,"

"Yes, yes, not the Gryffindor."

"In the flesh would be better but a picture would suffice."

Draco groaned. Then a thought came to him and his eyes lit up. "You drive a hard bargain Theodore. I don't think I can get Patil's but what about Brown's, Lavender Brown's. I could get her to you by the end of the day."

"You mean I can see them for real?" He looked like a five year old who had just met Santa Claus for the first time. Then he looked sceptical, "How?"

"Yeah sure, piece of cake. And on the how," Draco then smiled, self-satisfaction written all over his face, "lets just say she owes _me _a favour."

* * *

To be continued... 


	3. Part III

**Special**

**Part III**

Hermione was scribbling furiously upon the parchment before her. It was more like engraving than scribbling, as the quill was literally carving through to the table underneath.

She was angry.

Very angry.

Usually Hermione didn't let little inconsequential things like being in someone's bad books bother her. There were many things she had done to piss people off, nothing that they didn't deserve though.

She remembered the time she had caught Ron trying to copy her homework and she had thrown a very large, and very heavy, book at him. And another time when she kept Rita Skeeter trapped in a jar, Hermione was very proud of that one. Or when she had found Colin Creevey hiding under the bleachers in the Quidditch stands, taking pictures of girl's knickers- while they were still wearing them! He had had his own underwear attached to the rafters in the Great Hall, with a flashing sign hanging over them saying; 'Colin Is A Dirty Little Boy Who Needs To Stop Pointing His Camera Where It's Not Wanted!' Or that one time in third year, when she had slapped Malfoy for bad-mouthing Hagrid.

She smiled at that one.

He had had two more since then. One, for telling a fresh group of first year Hufflepuffs that the resident ghosts watch you while you go to the bathroom. The second, which happened more recently, for using some very unacceptable language against herself. Some girls may have taken it as a compliment but not Hermione, she found it quite offensive that he would even have the audacity to tell her that her chest was looking very bountiful today, then turn around and ask her what her bra size was?

What cheek!

She hadn't spoken to him for a week, but that didn't stop him from hounding her, like tagging along on her study sessions in the library or sitting up in the Astronomy Tower to watch the sunset.

However all he had to do was say sorry in that reluctant way of his. Moreover, even though she knew he didn't mean it, he was forgiven instantly and the arrogant smirk would appear and a, 'you just can't resist me, can you Granger?'

She would try to explain that he was the one who couldn't resist _her_, because he was the one following _her_ around like a little lost puppy; he would wave it off though, and tell her she would love that. _That_ being - having a leash looped around his neck. He would always tease her about being kinky. For some reason, to Draco someone like her, being around books a lot of the time, stored up a lot of sexual tension, and the only way it was going to come out was with the aid of toys! And Hermione didn't think he was talking about Lego and teddy bears.

They had come a long way since the days of 'Mudblood' and 'Inbreed'. Oh, some of the hostility was still there, instead now it was just simmering and not boiling over the top of the pan anymore. He may not call her that racist name anymore, but she still got the odd 'Ferret Face' in there every now and again and he would retort with 'Bucktoothed Beaver'. They would each laugh off each others teasing and defend themselves; that she no longer had goofy teeth and that he…

Well, Draco could no longer be considered a, pointy faced boy anymore. He could look very handsome when he wanted to, most especially when he wasn't sneering or scowling. He still looked like a ferret in Hermione's opinion, and that was only because she found ferrets to be kind of cute, dangerous, but cute.

He wasn't the tallest in his year, shorter than Ron but taller than Harry, Hermione could just about reach level with his nose. He wasn't built, like the muscular Ernie McMillan but rakish without being considered scrawny. He wasn't butch either, it wasn't like he had to go out and prove he was all testosterone, you could clearly see he was a man. There was a faint appearance of femininity about him, and he would kill her if he found out she thought that about him. No, he didn't act like a girl, he just had some features that were definitely too pretty to have been inherited from his father. Girls were always taking about Draco's high cheekbones or smoky-grey eyes and his beautifully arched eyebrows with envy and lust.

However, the one point that was most frequently stated about Draco was his hair. Even Hermione would admit she was jealous, (to anybody but Harry, Ron and Draco himself of course). It was a very pretty shade of blond, more pale some would say, like white sand that sparkled under water. The way he pushed it back when either, the wind was blowing it about or to catch someone's eye, never failed to make a lot of ladies catch their breath. Couple that manoeuvre with a cocky smirk and the effect was devastating to the female sex.

What Hermione envied most about it, with a big green capital 'J', was not the colour or its pulling power, but it's texture. It was so silky smooth it felt as though you were gliding you're fingers through water. And she would know, she had touched it. Obviously accidentally, she would never touch it willingly - okay, she would, if only she had the guts.

Some Gryffindor she was!

She was scared of what he would think of her if she actually plucked up the courage to do it, with his knowing. Hermione didn't want to jeopardise the small friendship that had developed through the mutual loss of their mothers. The thing was, Malfoy didn't seem like the touchy-feely type; he had gotten snappy once when she had tried to straighten out his tie, so musing up his hair by slowly running her finger through it would be catastrophic. He was always particular about his appearance.

Another drawback, was she didn't want to give him the wrong impression. She liked him. A lot. But was it worth it? Moving into a relationship only to find you weren't compatible in _that_ way. It would certainly put a strain on them both, and it would be hard to get back what they had before, especially after the amount of time it had taken them to get where they were today. What was worse was that she didn't even know if he _liked_ her like that.

Hermione groaned and banged her head on the desk. Ginny always said over analysing things would be her down fall. She was right because she felt she was about to explode from the marathon of thoughts running through her mind.

* * *

The plan had gone to pot. Theo's diversionary tactic of misdirecting the girls had been found out in seconds. There were so many of them it was hard for one of them not to notice the Slytherin seeker sneaking through the door after Theo had told them he had gone for a victory ride. 

It had to be Pansy though, with those beady eyes that were constantly seeking him out. She had been very, very Slytherin about it when see had spotted him, she didn't tell a soul and had grabbed hold of him, pulling him around a corner and pushing him up against a wall. She had appeared so suddenly out-of-the-blue that he was powerless to stop it from happening.

"Draco," she purred into his ear as she dragged her finger down the front of his shirt.

Well, he thought, one was better than two dozen.

She raised her leg to rub her knee against the inside of his thigh, "Why have you been hiding Draco? All I've wanted to do was congratulate you."

He felt like vomiting from not only her words but the choking fumes of her perfume, he held his breath to stop it's poison from entering his system. He felt that if he breathed it in he would become woozy and faint, and Merlin knows what she would do to him then. He quickly darted his eyes up and down the corridor, searching for an escape.

When he didn't answer she smiled and popped open the top couple of buttons of his shirt. "Would you like that now Draco?" she breathed and kissed his exposed neck. "Ummm? To congratulate, you."

Pansy wasn't bad looking; blonde hair that curled into loose spiral ringlets, dark blue eyes, super model tall and just as super model thin. It was just that her snobbery, lack of even the tiniest bit of intelligence that can get you through even the simplest conversations and her vanity, was a total turn off for Draco and took away all the nice things about her on the outside and focused more on the ugliness on the inside.

Ew, she was licking him now, like she was some kind of cat and he a dish of cream. Draco grabbed hold of her shoulders and pushed her away.

"Pansy, listen to me. I've told you this before, this thing between us," he waved his hand between them both, "is just not working."

Her mouth dropped open. "You're breaking up with me?"

"If I remember correctly you broke up with me for that Corner idiot. Really Pansy, if you were going to cheat on me at least let it be someone who's not going to tell the whole school not ten minutes after he's been inside you."

She glared. "Well, you remember wrongly. That was just a one time thing, you know that."

"You think it's alright to toddle off and shag whomever you want, and still come back to me?"

"But Draco," she said holding on to his arm. "You know it's you I love."

He sighed and ran his hand through his hair as shook off her hand.

If there was one thing he knew about Pansy Parkinson; it was that she was a bitch who would lie about anything as long as it got what she wanted. She would tell you she was a virgin if she ever wanted to be a nun. Not that that would ever happen.

"This is the last time I'm going to say this; we are no longer together and never will be again. So, drop it, okay? No more, it's over, done and dusted, swept under the rug, Finite Incantatem, whatever you want to called it. Move on, Pans."

The look in her eyes spoke of murder. She swung her hand back and smacked him across the face. The amount of force she used was unbelievable and it caused his head and half of his body to snap around nearly a full one hundred and eight degrees.

Draco rubbed his reddening jaw and turned to see her snarling. It did nothing for her looks.

"HEY LADIES, HE'S OVER HERE."

His eyes widened.

"Why, you sly, stuck up bitch."

"Don't mess with me, Draco Malfoy." She smirked and disappeared around the corner just as a group of oestrogen driven girls rounded it.

"THERE HE IS!" One of them shouted.

Draco ran.

As fast as he could.

* * *

Hermione had finished the Prefect's duty rota for the rest of the school year by the time the game had finished and she was starting on the final daft of her Head girl speech for the leaver's assembly in three weeks time. 

Keeping up with homework and tutoring fifth and seventh years for their exams was exhausting as well as up holding her duties as Head girl, and that wasn't counting keeping Harry and Ron in line. She was glad to have time to herself now that her work load was considerably less heavy, nigh on existent in fact.

She breathed a sigh of relief. Never in her whole life had she had so many responsibilities as she had had this year. It would be nice just to sit back and relax for a change. She deserved it, if she didn't say so her self.

The creak of the door told her she had company.

"How long have you been here?"

She looked up to see the Head Boy. She smiled. "A coupe of hours. Has the match finished then?"

"Yeah. Slytherin won, can you believe that?" He said sitting behind the desk opposite her own. "I was so shocked, I thought it was a sure thing that Harry would catch the snitch, what with it being his last year and all."

Hermione looked stunned. "You mean that Malfoy caught it?"

"Come on Hermione, I thought you were smarter than that."

She scowled in reply.

"It was a fluke if you ask me. One minute he was dangling upside down on his broom, then the next he's got the snitch in his hand and sitting on his broom like the King of England," said Terry.

"Goodness." She had know idea Draco had it in him.

"More like badness. Malfoy's going to be unbearable until school ends, his ego's going to be the size of Russia. By the way have you finish the rota for patrol?"

"Yes," she said getting up from her chair and handed a piece of parchment to him.

Terry looked it over and nodded. "I'll put one up on each of Ravenclaw's and Hufflepuff's notice boards."

"But I did Slytherin last time."

"Sorry Hermione. I don't think I can stand going in their common room so soon after their win. It's going to be hell down there."

She cocked her head. "So you're leaving that fate to me!"

He grinned.

She huffed.

"Fine. I'm going to do it now while they're all still on a high, hopefully they won't pay any attention to me." She made her way to the door.

"Good luck," Terry called after her.

* * *

To be continued...

* * *

**AN**

Betaed once again by Jenny. Thank you.

I'm planning on having this fic finished by the time Deathly Hallows is released and have chapter 19 of _Things Can Only Get Better_ up by the end of the week. I'm sorry TCOGB hasn't been gettig a lot of attention, I've been side-tracked by this fic and it will probably go on hiatus until I've read book 7. I am exceedingly sorry to all my readers, but think about the bright side, DH is released on a Friday and I have the whole of Saturday and Sunday to complete it, which I very well might do.

Stay tuned for Part IV.

Hugs you all because you're so fabulous,

Kylie x


	4. Part IV

**Special**

**Part IV**

Draco finally made it, virtually unscathed except for the odious stink that was following him around ever since Pansy had got hold of him, to the Prefect's Meeting Room. He locked the door behind him, just in case any of the other girls had seen him enter.

The heavy drapes were drawn making the room practically impossible to navigate yourself through. He waved his wand and the curtains threw themselves open and billowed with the force. Light flooded the room and Draco waved his wand again to open the floor to ceiling windows, letting the fresh air dissolve the stale.

The room itself was like a small auditorium; Draco descended the isle flanked by seats, towards a lectern that stood in front of a black board. At the bottom on the right hand wall was a door. The Head's study.

He entered and found someone totally unwanted.

Terry Boot.

Draco's arch nemesis. Yes, hated more than Potter and Weasley.

The first thing Draco didn't like about the Ravenclaw was that Terry was Head Boy, and that meant he was in close proximity to Hermione a lot of the working day, which in Hermione's case was all day, minus class and sleeping hours.

The second thing he hated about him was that Boot liked to piss him off. Giving him most off the night patrols and supervising the second year detentions. Pretentious little pricks who thought that because they had been there a year they now had the right to give the elder students aggro. Draco would always give the little shits a good setting down for being too big for their boots, and they would always come back for more!

Another, and the most important, thing he didn't like about Boot was that he was also friends with Hermione. They hadn't really spoken to each other until they had been appointed their positions, but working closely with each other would do that to people, make them closer. However, over the course of the year Boot had been feeling something more than just friendship towards the Head Girl. The signs were blatant; he was always seeking her out, always wanting her opinion on something, going over every single minute thing with her, sitting by her at the Gryffindor table to discuss 'Head's business'.

Pretence. Pretence. Pretence.

All was a load of bullshit.

What got right under his skin though, was that Granger hadn't even known about it until Draco had told her, and even then she didn't believe him.

"Terry?" she would say. "I don't think so. He's just doing his job."

"Trust me Granger. He wants to get in your knickers. Does he really need to know where you're going to be every minute of the day?"

"It's just in case he needs me for anything."

Draco would grumble and frown a lot, and she would smile and tell him he was jealous.

Even worse, however, was that Terry knew, (the only person in fact), that he, Draco, liked her himself. Hence all the bollocks late night rounds and baby sitting jobs. (But the good thing about being friends with the Head Girl was that she had the authority to make any changes to the schedules.) The guy was so fucked up and was always interrupting his and Hermione's alone time together, (when she wasn't with Potter or Weasley), and she, being the gullible fool that she was, would always believe Boot's pathetic excuse of, 'I'm sorry, but I'm having trouble fitting so-and-so into the rota because of such-and-such', and toddle off with him instead. He even got to do most of his patrol duties with her, the lucky git.

So here he was, the Head's study, with Boot and no Hermione in sight.

The Head Boy was leaning back in his chair and feet propped up on his desk as he read a piece of parchment. He looked over at Draco and then looked down at his reading material. "Come to gloat have you, Malfoy?"

Draco raised an eyebrow in reply. "Now why the hell would I do that? It wasn't you I was playing against."

"Oh," he said, still not looking at him. "Then you've come to find Hermione."

This was a first rate dickhead. He wanted to crush him beneath his boot.

"She's not here."

"Obviously."

He looked up then, glaring at Draco for the tone he used. "You know sarcasm is considered the lowest form of wit?"

"Well did you know, that with eyes that far apart you're never going to get laid?"

Boot's eyes got narrower.

Terry didn't know what Hermione saw in the slimy Slytherin, he was a stuck-up bully with a snobby accent. How they ever became friends he would never know, and he really didn't want to. All he had to do was get them as far away as possible from each other.

Malfoy couldn't be good for her; he would just bring her down. He was dominant and controlling. Hermione was a strong girl but she was also too nice for her own good. She was too good for him with her forgiving nature and kindness. She should be with _him_.

"Your petty remarks won't get you anywhere, Malfoy. So you may as well bugger off and find your groupies."

"Why would I need _them_, when I have Hermione?"

Terry's feet dropped to the floor as he threw the parchment onto the desk. He stood and crossed his arms. "You don't _have _her."

You could practically feel the testosterone fogging the air. The hate between the two was so thick it would take a chainsaw to cut through it, and the jealousy was so green it was nearly black.

Draco crossed his arms too. "Oh, yeah? Well she likes me more." He felt like sticking his tongue out to follow that remark, but restrained himself.

With a roll of his eyes he replied, "How can she like you more than me? We're more alike than she and you will ever be. You know it's true, if you really liked her Malfoy, give up this little crush you have and let someone more suitable take care of her."

"Oh, and you think that's you, do you?" He couldn't believe he was thinking this, but Draco thought that Weasley was a better match. "Think again Boot. She would walk all over you, she doesn't want some sap who will sit when told. She wants conflict and passion. And I have more of that in my little toe than you do in your entire body."

"And how the hell would you know what she wants?" Terry snapped.

Draco smirked. "It's in her nature. She's bossy and anal-retentive, things that you just can't handle."

Terry stepped towards him and pulled out his wand.

To be on the safe side Draco did the same.

"Don't say that about Hermione. She's the most kind and caring person there is."

"Stop putting her on a fucking pedestal, would you? She's a know-it-all with an unhealthy fixation with books, and has a temper like Medusa."

"It's nice to know you know me so well, Malfoy," said an angry voice.

Ah. Fuck.

He could see Terry smirking at him, and Draco wanted to pummel him and string him up by his ankles as he fed him to the squid. He turned to face Hermione. It was very easy to tell that she was extremely pissed off at him. Him and his big fat gob.

"Listen, Granger."

She pushed passed him to her desk and started to arrange the parchment into a neat stack and her inkbottles into a neat row, all unnecessary as everything was already in its rightful place. "No, I won't listen; I've heard all you have to say."

"I know how that could have sounded, but you're taking it out of con-"

"No, no more Malfoy. Shut up and get out," she said pointing to the door.

"Grang-"

"You heard what she said; get out," Terry said walking to the door and opening it for him.

"Fuck you, dickhead. You have nothing to do with this."

"Of course I do."

Draco pointed his wand under Terry's chin. "Don't make me shove my wand up your arse, Boot."

"Stop it, just stop it. Leave me alone, I don't want to hear anymore."

"Fine," he snapped, "if that's what you want."

"Yes it is." She sounded tired and broken.

He gave a final longing glance at the Head Girl, who was still aimlessly moving things around on her desk, gave the finger to the Head Boy, whose eyes were laughing at him, and left with a heavy heart.

* * *

Hermione _was _tired and she _was_ broken. 

How could he say such things about her? They were friends weren't they? But friends don't say such things about them behind their back. She had thought he had changed, that he wasn't such an arsehole anymore, that he liked her at least just a tiny bit, enough not to say such nasty things about her.

Being hurt by those she was closest to was one of Hermione's greatest fears. Betrayal, even more so.

She had liked him and he had shown that he didn't really like her in return. Not in the way she wanted him to or even in the way she would settle for, and never had.

"You okay, Hermione? Hey, you shouldn't let him get to you."

"I'm fine," she sighed and collapsed into her chair.

Terry rubbed her shoulders soothingly and said, "I told you he was going to be a git today."

Hermione laughed lamely then frowned. "Maybe I should have listened to him and heard him out."

That's what she would have normally done for anyone in any given situation, but Draco had cut her so deep she needed to be away from the source of pain as quickly as she could. Therefore, she had no other choice but to send him away. And now she felt guilty, he had sounded a little desperate when he was trying to explain to her, but she had ignored him to cover up her broken heart.

"He's a good-for-nothing nobody," he said, brushing her hair to the side in order to kneed the back of her neck, "who likes to irritate people. He said those things because he's a bully whose everyday goal is to make people feel low and knock down their self-esteem. Forget about him Hermione, he's not worth it, not when you have friends like me."

"Perhaps you're right," she said closing her eyes and leaning back into his hands. He was very good at this massage stuff.

"Now enough about Malfoy," he said. "Have you written up your speech yet?"

As Hermione went on to describe the general outline of it, Terry smiled devilishly. A job well done, and it wasn't even planned!

* * *

Draco kicked the stonewall; he was so furious that he didn't feel the spark of pain shoot up his leg. He was angry at Boot for getting him in the argument in the first place and practically egging him on to say those things, and he knew he would say them. 

He was angry at himself for actually saying them even if they were true about her. But the way she had said those final words, "Yes it is"; that was when Draco knew he wouldn't be forgiven this time. He had done a lot of crazy shit to her over the years, most of them worse than what he had done today. But he concluded that it was expected that he'd be nasty to her when they were enemies and not when they were friends.

The way she had looked at him she had known that he hadn't been teasing and meant what he had said, because teasing would have resulted in either her laughing, playfully slapping him, or his favourite, blushing. She had done none of those things. He had seen the betrayal in her eyes and it twisted his gut. It pained him to know that he had hurt the only person he had every truly liked.

Even more so, he was angry at Hermione. She had ignored him, sent him away without even hearing his explanation.

He leaned back against the wall and slid down it until he was balancing on just the balls of his feet. His forearms rested on his thighs and his hands dangled between his legs. He tilted his head back and closed his eyes.

He was a dipshit.

Why couldn't he have just left the room as soon as he had realise she wasn't there? Why did he always have to go off on one whenever he saw Terry bloody Boot? Draco knew that Hermione didn't like him in anything more than a strictly professional manner, and that Terry didn't have a hope's chance in hell when it really came down to it. Hermione would have given herself away if she felt anything romantic for the Ravenclaw, just like when she had fancied the Weasel back in sixth year, she was so obvious.

Draco sighed. Merlin knows what he was saying to her in there, twisting his words even more no doubt, making him look like even more of a bastard than he already was.

Well, Draco Malfoy wasn't going to stand for it, he had never taken flack from anyone before, (that was not including his father), and he wasn't going to start now.

He stood and pulled himself together. He was going to talk to Hermione, make her see sense, ask her out, make her accept him and whip Boot's arse until he disintegrated into nothingness just like Voldemort.

Firstly though, he had an unscheduled appointment with a Gryffindor.

* * *

To be continued...

* * *

AN

There you go people. Only one, perhaps two, more part(s) to go. I haven't written them yet, but I'm still aiming to have this done before July 20th.

Leave us a review and let me hear your thoughts.

Much love,

Kylie x


	5. Part V

**Special**

**Part V**

He found her, finally.

She was in the Great Hall having the post-game lunch, seated next to the Gryffindor Patil twin. There weren't that many students in there; only half a dozen or so Gryffindors, a hand full of Hufflepuffs and a few Ravenclaws. No Slytherins were present except for himself; he assumed they were off celebrating. Neither was Potter or any of the others in the Gryffindor team; and he supposed they were off sulking. But as soon as he had stepped through the doors every female head looked up from their conversations or plates. Kind of like meerkats, Draco thought.

There was silence then a half a dozen or so of them stood and rushed towards him.

He held his hands up to stop them in their tracks. _Fuck me_, he thought. Some of them were first years; over the years, the start of puberty for girls must have be getting lower and lower.

"Now ladies, I know you all want a piece of me, and there is enough to go around, but you will just have to be patient. There is only one girl I want to see at the moment."

The girls looked at each other stunned, praying inside that they were that girl.

"Lavender Brown."

Her head shot up and her eyes widened. Unlike some of the others, she had chosen to stay seated. She had no interest in the Slytherin, there was only one boy in the whole school in her eyes, and he was seated across from her. She looked at Dean to see his reaction, if she was hoping for a spark of jealousy she would be sorely disappointed. All he did was stare at her blankly.

She glared at him, stood abruptly from the table and stormed through the parting group of whispering girls and past Draco through to the Entrance Hall. He, however, gave the crowed a dazzling smile and followed her.

The girls mumbled and grumbled as they retook their places to bitch about how Lavender Brown had caught the eye of the Slytherin seeker.

Dean, on the other hand, turned to his best friend and said, "Did you see the look she gave me? There was murder in her eyes, I swear."

"Maybe she wanted you to do something about it," Seamus replied.

"Why in the world would she want _me_ to do something? What was there to do anyway?"

Seamus swallowed the last of his Shepard's pie and shrugged, "Beats me. I have no idea what goes on in the mind of the opposite sex."

"I don't think any of us do," grumbled Dean.

"To be honest, _I_ don't think _they_ even know."

* * *

Lavender came to a stop just outside of the main doors of the castle, behind a protruding wall so that no one would see them together. She whirled around and jabbed her finger at him. "What was that all about, Malfoy? You know I have not one ounce of interest in you, so why would you pick me?" 

Draco slowly took hold of the offending finger and moved it out of his personal space. "Look Brown, if you didn't expect anything out of me you wouldn't have come, so you tell me, why are you here?"

She glared spitefully at him.

"If the wind changes direction you'll stick like that. And I think it's a shame for you to get wrinkles at the tender age of seventeen; what with screwing up your chances of bagging that Thomas idiot and all." He raised a brow and smirked as her faced dropped and she frantically began rubbing her forehead.

"Screw you Malfoy."

"No thank you, I think it's much more productive to get someone to do that for me."

She froze, choked, then cried, "I will not have sex with you!"

"Get over yourself Brown. Out of all the girls in the school I could sleep with, you think that you would be my first choice? I think not." His first choice had betrayed him and buggered off with some dimwit, but now was not the time to be thinking about that.

"Then why have you bought me all the way out here?" she asked.

"You owe me," he said simply.

"I don't owe you a damn thing."

"Au contraire. I think, no, I know you do."

"Oh?" she said crossing her arms. "And how do you come to that conclusion?"

He gave his 'I Know Something You Don't Know' smirk and leaned in close to her ear. "I know about your little scheme to get Dean Thomas, Lavender. And me, being the nice guy that I am, helped you out; without your knowing of course."

She pushed him away, "Bullshit, Malfoy. You just want something out of me. And guess what? You're not going to get it."

"Oh, I think I will." He crossed his arms and leaned back against the wall. "You see, I knew you were out to get the Weasel ."

Her eyes widened and Draco loved the satisfaction it bought him.

"What a shame it was when Thomas chose Ginny Weasley instead of you. I bet it hurt right here," he tapped his heart, "didn't it? So, you, being a conniving bitch, thought to extract your revenge through the Weaselette's brother. Very Slytherin if I don't say so myself." she glared. He continued. "You convince him to break them up, and poof, you're home free again. Tell me Brown, what have you been doing for the past year? - bending over tables, praying that he would look down your top or up your skirt - because I still don't see him parading you around as his girlfriend yet."

She lunged for him. "You bastard."

He grabbed her wrists, spun her around and pinned her against the wall. "I may be a bastard, but I'm a helpful one."

"And how have you been helpful?" she spat.

"I got you and Weasley together."

"Did you boat!"

"Oh yes I did. Don't you remember? I suppose not, it was ever such a long time ago. Well let me refresh your memory; I knocked you over, books went flying, the Weasel saw your arse, came over to help, and ZAP! the beginning of a beautiful relationship. See, aren't I kind?" He let go of her and stepped back to see the comprehension dawn on her face.

It was magnificent.

"You're trying to blackmail me."

"I wouldn't say trying, more like am."

"And what if I refused to go along with it? It's not like you can tell anyone because they wont believe you."

His smile looked positively evil. She shrunk back in fear.

"I think a little talk with the Head Girl would sort a few thinks out." It didn't matter that Hermione wasn't talking to him now; later she would be. He looked at his hand idly and picked off a hangnail. "With her being his best friend she's bound to want to defend him and because she's the highest in the student hierarchy, she could do what ever she wanted with you."

"And what would she do? Give me detention!"

He looked at her incredulous. This girl was nuts. "Are you forgetting that Granger is one of the top duellists in the school? She would beat your ass and throw you at the Whomping Willow for what you did. Are you forgetting I have been a victim of her wrath many-a-times? And let me assure you she doesn't need a wand to vent out her anger."

"She'll be just as angry with you too."

He rolled his eyes. "Since when has Granger _not_ been angry with me?" Before all this lark about him calling her names, but she didn't need to know that. "Oh, and I don't think Thomas will look upon you too favourably after he finds out as well."

She slouched, knowing she was defeated. He grinned in triumph. "What is it that you want me to do?"

Draco curled an arm around her shoulder, she tried to resist him, he, however, held her firmly against his side. "I have a friend, you see, and he would very much like to…"

Sometimes he scared himself with his Godlike powers of coercion.

* * *

"It is okay, Harry Potter's fuzzy Granger. Dobby is making it all betters with cheesy-cake and tea." 

Hermione had no idea how cheesecake would help her situation, but a spot of tea didn't sound bad. At least she hadn't turned to firewhiskey yet. And then again, cheesecake could be considered as comfort food with all those calories, and it sure beat the traditional ice-cream. She pulled the small desert plate towards her and picked up the spoon.

They say, that for every bad experience that happens in a person's life it takes five good experiences to counterbalance it.

Well, one down, four more to go.

She paused as the spoon was half way to her mouth. Hundreds of globelike eyes stared at her. She was sitting in the kitchens surrounded by house elves and they were making her feel extremely self-conscious.

She coughed uncomfortably.

They blinked in reply.

She ate the piece on the spoon and then smiled at them.

They all breathed a sigh of relief and resumed their duties around the kitchen. Now they were no longer staring at her she felt more comfortable to dig in.

Hermione had needed to vent her frustration and worries onto someone after the episode with Draco, she knew Terry didn't want to hear about thanks to his diversion, but there was only so much to talk about involving a leavers speech. So as soon as he had left her, to post the Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw patrol rotas and give her some cooling off time, she had disappeared to talk to the only ears that would listen.

House elves were simple creatures and couldn't really process or what she was trying to tell them. Their brains couldn't understand the intricacy of her and Draco's relationship and the feelings she had towards him; _goodness_, she wasn't even sure how far her feeling went. But the one thing that house-elves were good at, apart from housekeeping and cooking, was being sympathetic even if they couldn't understand a single word that came out of your mouth. They believed that if you love someone, you should be with them, they couldn't relate to the concept of unrequited love.

Hermione absentmindedly played with her cake.

She didn't like the way it felt.

* * *

Lavender had put up quite a fight when she had found out what is was he wanted her to do. In the end she had come around, figuring that it was a small price to pay if she didn't want Dean finding out about her scheming ways. 

After sorting out that bit of business, Draco decided that he had given Hermione a sufficient amount of time to see how much she had wronged him. All he needed to do now was find her; without the Gryffindor grabbing Ravenclaw. He didn't want to find her with him; as much as he liked her way of seeing the bigger picture and having enough common sense to keep her alive all these years, it was going to be hard driving all that shit Boot had shovelled into her head.

He looked in the library, the astronomy tower, the willow tree she liked to read under, the Room of Requirement and he even went as far as to ask a Gryffindor if she was in her house tower. All avenues resulted in a dead end. The only other place he hadn't searched and the last place he had seen her- so it would have been the most obvious place to look first - was the Head's study, and he had even more obvious reasons for not wanting to go back there.

Sometimes he wished he had taken _The Daily Prophet_'s advice and drank a hate potion, but if there was any chance that Granger felt even the slightest bit attracted to him, it was worth the hassle of getting into a fight.

So back to the study he went.

Boot wasn't there, thank Salazar, but neither was Hermione.

Draco flopped down in her chair and hung his head in his hands. He had run out of places to look for her. He was trying to make everything better but was getting cut short at every turn.

There was a small 'POP' that didn't even make him raise his head, he was just so damn gloomy he didn't care anymore, it was only a house elf, most probably here to clean.

"Young Master Draco?"

He looked up. "You don't need to call me that anymore, Dobby."

"Oh, Master Draco," he said bouncing up and down on the balls of his feet looking very anxious. "I is so glad to find you. Dobby has been looking for you all over the Hogwarts school."

"Well, what do you want?"

"Harry Potter's fuzzy Granger -"

Draco didn't like how that sounded. She didn't belong to Potter, she belonged to hi- Well actually, no, she didn't belong to him either. He perked up anyway, at the sound of her name. "What? You've seen her? Where is she?"

"Oh, she is very sad sir, and that makes Dobby sad too."

"Where is she, Dobby?"

The elf wrung his hands. "Dobby shouldn't tell. Master Draco made Miss cry, and now thinks Master Draco don't love her, sir, that is why she is sad. But she is saying she still loves him, sir."

Draco sat stunned. She loved him. She was in love with him! His heart beat wildly.

He had to find her.

"Where is she?" he said grabbing the front of the elf's uniform.

"She is in the kitchens, sir," he squeaked.

Draco dropped the elf and strode determinedly to the door.

"You is going to make it all rights, yes?"

"Yes Dobby, I am, even if it kills me," he replied over his shoulder and walked though the door.

The sound of a 'POP' filled the room.

* * *

**AN**

References:

The part about the_ Daily Prophet's Hate Potion_ was taken from the HP Lexicon, so for more information, check out the website and find it under 'H' in the _'Encyclopedia of Potions'_.

And the statement about the 5:1 ratio of good and bad experiences is actually true. I learnt it from a psychological programme. This probably explains why I have so many bad days!

This isn't betaed, so I'm sorry for any mistakes. It seems I'm on target, though.

Oh, I'm all excited, one more part to go peeps.

Kylie x


	6. Part VI

**Special**

**Part VI**

Hermione had gotten through three slices and was now feeling like a gluttonous sinner. She leaned back in her chair and rubbed her stomach. She couldn't remember the last time she had indulged in the fancies of her sweet tooth.

She burped loudly.

"Jeeze, I think that was at least a six on the Richter scale."

She whirled around and blushed when she realised who it was. She turned back to the table and fiddled with the spoon left on the crumb-ridden plate. "What are you doing here?" she asked quietly.

Draco ignored her question and took the seat next to her. "Been binge eating I see." He thought lightening the mood would make a good start and because he felt guilty over the fact that he had made her cry, which was plain to see from the way she was forcefully rubbing her cheeks with the back of her hand.

"Very perceptive of you, Draco."

He smiled. All was not lost if she was still calling him by his first name. He waved over an elf.

"Yes?" It squeaked.

"I'll have whatever she's having."

"And another for Miss?"

"No," Draco cut in before she could speak. "I think she's had enough for today."

"And how would you know?" Hermione said indignantly.

"If that very unladylike sound you made earlier is anything to go by, I think you've had your fill." She blushed. "And I'm looking out for your wellbeing by not letting you turn into a fat cow."

She glared. "I suppose I should thank you then."

He shrugged. "No need. This little piece of charity is for free."

"Charity _is _free."

"There you go then." He turned back to the elf that was waiting patiently through their exchange. "Well, go on then."

"Yes sir." The elf scuttled off to do its biding.

After a long pause of silence, Hermione had gone back to fiddling with her utensil, and Draco searched wildly for a way of moving the nonexistent conversation in the way he wanted it to go.

"I've been looking for you," he said quietly.

Her hands stopped. "Excuse me?"

Just then, the elf came back with a tray, a slice of cake and a freshly brewed pot of tea with all its essentials.

Draco busied himself with making them both a cup as Hermione watched in fascination as his hands moved deftly to make her tea exactly as she liked. Two sugars and quarter milk. He then made his own, two sugars again and just a dash of milk. He could have made them simultaneously but she guessed he was trying to either, bide his time with answering again, or, avoid the question altogether.

"Draco."

He sighed, pushed her cup towards her and said, a little more loudly, "I've been looking for you."

She took a moment to take his reply in as she blew on her drink to cool it. She looked up at him, then looked back down and frowned. "I don't see why you would want to after I told you to go away."

"Me either," he said cutting his cake with the side of his spoon and scooping it up into his mouth. "You were a bitch."

"Yeah," she said angrily. "Well you were being a bastard."

He turned and smiled at her. "I'm always a bastard."

She shrugged. "True, but what you said about me was uncalled for."

"That's true too." He picked up his tea and took a sip.

"So if you've come here to say sorry and expect me to sweep everything under the rug _again_, you've got another thing coming."

"If there is one thing you know about me Granger, it's that I never say sorry. You forgive me on your own imitative. Because why would I do that when I never lie?"

She couldn't believe he truly believed what he had said. She flinched internally from another stab in her chest. He really did know how to cut someone deep. But Hermione was a strong young woman and she could cover up her emotions just as good as any Malfoy.

"Then why the hell are you here?" she cried as she stood up.

Okay, not _that_ good.

Draco quickly grabbed her arm and pulled her back down. She twisted out of his grip and got up from her seat again, and started heading for the door.

"Granger, wait!"

This was not how he envisioned this to unfold. She always made things so damn hard for everyone around her, especially him. Couldn't she sit down and have a conversation without it going belly up, turning it into a debate, argument or lecture?

He wasn't going to let her go without hearing what he had to say.

He followed her with five long strides, his tea and cake forgotten. Draco made sure he had a good hold on her this time. He gripped her wrist and spun her around. He did it so fast and roughly that she slammed right into his chest.

That was when the elves stood there shocked, too frightened to move as they watched the closely embraced couple, none of them courageous enough to intervene or continue on with their duties.

"Let go of me," she said struggling to be free.

Taking her jaw in to his hand, he forced her to look up at him. "No! I'm not having you go all drama-queen on me Hermione, it doesn't suit you." She glared. "I'm only going to say this once and you're going to listen this time.

"I was provoked into say those things about you. That wanker knew you were there, I just didn't realise until I left. How many times have I told you he had a thing for you? Dozens, and each time you threw my words away. I know what triumph looks like Granger, and Boot had it written all over his face. He thought he had you and he did for a while."

"That still doesn't excuse the fact that you were slagging me off behind my back," she spat.

"Didn't I just tell you I never lie?"

Her face dropped, then scrunched in anger. "You bastard," she said and started to struggle again, flaying her arms trying to slap and push him away.

Draco was having the feeling of déjà vu. This little thing going on between them seemed eerily familiar.

Then out of nowhere, Hermione made an accurate shot with her knee to his groin. With the wind knocked out of him, he had no choice but to let her go, and clutch his wounded crotch as he sank to his knees.

She made a dash for the door.

"Hermione!" she heard through a fit of coughing. She didn't stop though, just kept on running, and finally she was gone with a slam of the door.

The elves started to surround him, unmindful of his pain, as they shook their heads.

"You is a silly boy," one of them said tutting. "Now she won't loves you no more."

Over my dead body.

* * *

As soon as she left the kitchens the tears came. 

It hurt so much she couldn't breathe. The pressure in her chest was unbelievable and unrelenting, the pressure of it just kept crushing and crushing her lungs and heart until it was unbearable. And the only way of expressing it was through crying and that was achieving anything.

"Hermione. Stop!" his voice came again. She glanced behind her to see him limping after her. She couldn't stand to look at him and continued down the corridor.

"Granger, at least slow down. It's only fair after what you did to me."

She ignored him.

"For fuck's sake," he muttered under his breath.

He eventually stopped, the pain between his legs getting the better of him, and said the only thing he knew that would get her attention. "I know, okay. I know that you love me!"

Hermione faltered, her running slowing down to a walk, then to a complete stop.

She sighed, hating that she had been trapped. She turned, defeated.

"What difference does it make, Draco?" she said wiping away her tears.

"A whole lot, I would say."

"What's that suppose to mean? That you enjoy seeing me hurt? That my feelings for you make this whole bloody episode that much more worthwhile?"

"I didn't mean it like that."

"Then what was it suppose to mean?" She crossed her arms.

He looked down as he rubbed the back of his neck. "I like you," he said under his breath.

She was confused. "Excuse me?"

Still unable to look her in the eye, he repeated what he said more loudly to his feet. "I like you."

Hermione was floored. Did he just say what she thought he said?

"Draco?"

He looked at her then with a glare. "How many time do you want me to say it, Granger?" he said holding out his hands. "I like you okay."

She smiled taking a step towards him. She understood how hard it was for him to say that, admitting to something even a small as saying you like someone. His hand came up to stop her.

"No. You have to hear this. And don't start jumping towards idiotic conclusions, just listen to what I have to say, _then_ you can bitch and moan at me all you want."

"Dr-"

"Stop and listen." He took a deep breath, ready for the plunge. "First of all, this is not an apology. Secondly, it's true; I did mean those things I said."

He saw her glare.

"Ah, ah, wait. I'm trying to explain. That prick thought you were perfect, I had to put him straight, and no matter how many times you tell yourself otherwise, you _are_ bossy and anal-retentive just like I'm a self-centred and selfish bastard.

"Thirdly, I said them because; one; I was provoked, two; partly to piss Boot off, and three; because he was trying to take you away from me. Moreover, I admit, because I was jealous, because I like you. I like that you're a bossy know-it-all."

Now that he had said his piece, all he had to do was wait.

The seconds ticked by. Eighteen gut wrenching seconds in which Draco's heart stopped beating, waiting for that tiny little sign that she understood and, fingers crossed, forgiven him.

Finally, after what felt like an eternity, Hermione smiled sadly and crushed him into a hug.

"Oh, Draco."

He held on to her tightly, still a little shaky on his legs. Happy he hadn't fucked things up a third time; things seemed a little brighter now that he had gotten all that off his chest. Hermione, on the other hand, felt like a balloon floating in the breeze. All she wanted was this moment to last forever. It was nice being so close to him, the feeling of knowing that he liked her the way she had always wanted him to.

She peered up through her lashes at him. His expression was intense as he brushed a lock of hair from her face and wiped away the tearstains from her cheeks. He leaned forward slowly. A kiss waiting to happen had Hermione silently gasping.

The first touch was light, almost nonexistent, a touch of heaven just waiting to be explored. Nothing had ever felt so special.

His lips moved timidly against hers, their movements enticing her to reciprocate. She did, by opening her mouth and closing them around his top lip as he kissed her full bottom one. Draco's hand slid from her cheek and down the curve of her neck, dragging his middle finger down the back of her ear and along the sensitive patch of skin at the edge of her jaw.

Hermione shivered and bought her hands from around his back, up and over his chest to clasp one hand at the back of his neck, and the other to do what she had always been scared to; glide her fingers through his silken hair.

Now that her mouth was open, Draco had the chance to slip his tongue inside. She gasped as she felt the wet organ touch her own, but undeterred by the surprised, she let him explore her mouth. He mapped the ridges of the roof and the smoothness of her teeth. Not wanting to have to do all the work, he coaxed her to do the same.

Shyly she did and loved the way he moaned and pulled her closer, something that she thought was impossible.

Then the moan didn't quite sound right, more strangled than pleasured. He pulled away from her grimacing. A hand slid downwards and…

"Oh, oh. Oh, I'm so sorry Draco. I didn't really mean to hurt you."

"Yes you did, and for that you owe me," he said smirking through his pain. "I need an icepack and a sit down."

"Oh yes, Come, I'll help you." She took hold of his arm and helped him to the nearest door. She spelled it unlocked and it swung open.

"Jesus!"

Draco burst out laughing.

Hermione took in the scene before her and finally said aghast, "Lavender Brown, put those away!"

Lavender's top snapped shut and she cut her eyes at the smirking Slytherin. "You said you wouldn't tell," she screamed at him. Unmindful of waiting for a reply, she stormed out the room breaking the new couple apart. As she huffed and puffed her way up the corridor, Draco and Hermione turned to the other occupant.

Theodore Nott was grinning at them both. He made the universal okay sign with both hands and said appraisingly, "Magnificent, Malfoy. Just magnificent!" before he too left.

Hermione stood in the doorway gapping.

Draco looped an arm around her shoulders and encouraged her to enter the room.

"I'll tell all about it after you've repaid me," he said joyously.

All he had to do now was think of an interesting way for Hermione to pay off her debt, and he had many self-beneficial ideas on how she could do that within this very room.

Having people in your debt had never been so good.

The End.

* * *

**AN**

That's it babes! All done, not quite dusted as this chapter isn't betaed, but hey, I hit my deadline. I'll come back to this to edit in a couple of weeks.

Thank you everyone for reading my first completed multi-chaptered fic, and leaving me your encouraging comments. You know I couldn't do this without you guys to support me.

So, please post one more lovely review for me to read once I've finished book 7, because I'm signing out now and there won't be any internet for me for a few days.

Goodbye for now readers, I'll see you all after I've crossed over!

Kylie x


End file.
